This is a note asking for your help in fighting breast cancer. Two things happen every October: the Hawaii Ironman World Championship of Triathlon and Breast Cancer Awareness Month. After much thought I have decided to return to the Hawaii Ironman this year. While I am looking forward to the race this year, I am also very motivated to continue my efforts at raising money and awareness for breast cancer research. Shortly after the race last year, my husband’s sister, Rosita, had a reoccurrence of her cancer. She endured another course of chemotherapy. It was very hard on her physically, but nothing could break Rosita’s spirit. She was determined to live to raise her daughter, Allie, and grow old with her husband, Joe. Rosita’s cancer took a sudden turn for the worse in June. She died on July 31st, five days before Allie’s 11th birthday. I decided to do the Hawaii Ironman again shortly after Rosita's funeral. I don't remember much about the month of August. I would go out for an hour run and end up running two. I would go out for a short ride and end up riding far into the foothills. In the end, Rosita made peace with her fate. She asked us not to cry for her and to take care of her daughter. I have personally not made any sort of peace with her passing. Instead, my despair at Rosita’s death has turned to determination. I believe with even more conviction that we have to make a collective commitment to cure breast cancer in our lifetime. No one else should have to lose a mother, a sister, a daughter, or a friend to this terrible disease. I have decided to dedicate this year’s race again to those I love that have been afflicted with this disease. In particular, I am racing in memory of Rosita and in celebration of my good friend, Anne, who is still battling her cancer and mostly winning. I am hoping that regardless of the difficulty of the day, October 21st, that I can show even a sliver of the lightness of spirit and joy with which Rosita lived her life. Come what may, I will draw on Anne’s faith, hope, and courage, in the lava fields. To make an online donation to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation click on this link:
You can also mail a check to Komen Foundation, 2443 Fair Oaks Blvd, #223, Sacramento, CA 95825. Please write Janus Charity Challenge in the memo line.
RACE REPORT 10/22/2006
Hi Everyone,
Well it's the day after and I thought I'd give you the down and dirty details of how it went yesterday. It was quite a day.
The swim started out okay. I got thrashed as usual but wasn't too worried. It was a very slow time but the tides were against us, so I was expecting that. I have a mini black eye from getting hit in the goggles. More like water polo than swimming.
Felt good getting on my bike. Less than two miles into it, a 23 year-old girl passed me on the left and swung into my front tire. Next thing I knew I was skidding across the highway on my side. (She, of course, did not go down...) My water bottles were scattered hinder and yon. My Gu flask was across the highway. I narrowly missed being run over by the cyclists behind me. I did my best to gather my stuff and myself. I unbent my water bottle cages. Played dodge the cyclists as I gathered up my nutrition. I had landed hard on my tailbone. Most of you know, I live in fear of repeating the stress fracture in my pelvis that happened two weeks before Ironman '03 that prevented me from competing that year. This was like a nightmare. I got back on my bike. I had a little road rash but nothing like it could have been. My biggest issue by far was the pain in my tailbone and my front brake rubbing my wheel which I resolved by opening the brake wide--but this also left me knowing I didn't have full braking power so I rode more tentatively than usual.
The whole bike I contemplated the likely possibility that I wouldn't be able to run because my tailbone hurt so badly. I couldn't push hard on the bike like last year because it hurt too much every time I tried, and I was scared. When I had to get off my bike and run around the pier in transition it hurt so bad I thought I was surely done for. I sat in the transition area for quite some time. The medical team urged me to go to the medical tent to be checked out. I said, “No, either I’ll be able to run or I won’t”. They put some Vaseline on my road rash and I decided to give running a try.
When I had my fracture, it wasn't the kind of pain I could "gut out", so I was hoping it was a soft tissue and not a bone injury. I pictured that a late night finish was a distinct possibly because I'd be walking most of the marathon. About mile 3-4 I ran by my sister and niece who were in front of our hotel. I asked them to have some Advil for me when I was on my way back from the turnaround at mile 5. The pain was pretty bad, but it wasn't getting worse. I decided I would run until I couldn't run and then walk until I couldn't walk anymore. When I passed by my family again, my sister had Advil for me and Kevin on the cell phone.
I got what I needed from all of them. A little tough love, encouragement, and Advil (a true wonder drug) go a long way. Kevin told me to drop out if I thought I was permanently injuring myself or decide to buck up, deal with the pain, get back in the race, and run like hell. So my run split includes a crying jag, a counseling session, and a medical evaluation.
My niece Shanni had purchased the last built up bike at Wal-Mart. It was a 24-inch wheel girls purple bike aptly called "the Tiara" (Shanni is 5'9"). It was a really pretty lavender and weighed at least 50 lbs. She bought a kids helmet. I swore she was wearing a cape but she'd tied a t-shirt around her neck. She was quite a sight and a great source of encouragement and entertainment to me out there. One of the greatest athletic feats of the day was Shanni riding that rig more than 16 miles out to the Natural Energy Lab. We are both really sore today. My sister and Shanni had the whole Team Keane thing going with tons of signs, matching t-shirts, and visors.
My sister, Lisa, is a skilled video editor and she made a movie of our adventures, “Bueno the Talking Dog” narrates it. He is a plastic bobble headed Chihuahua, is two inches tall, and has real interest in triathlons and fire hydrants.
So back to the run.... The pain just never got worse. I found that it didn't matter if I ran faster or slower with how much it hurt, so I was able to dig deep the last half. Since this whole year has been about picking myself up, dusting myself off, and figuring out how to go on, no matter how much it hurts, it makes sense to me that this Ironman went down like it did.
When I decided to dedicate my race to Rosita, Kevin’s sister, who recently passed away from her breast cancer, I promised myself that I would try to be brave like Rosita was when I was racing. Rosita was a truly extraordinary person. She found joy in everything. Nothing ever got her down. She found the good in everyone and everything. I am trying every day to be more like her. It’s a lofty goal.
It is hard to know, before the day unfolds, how a promise to yourself like that will play out. Would I be brave because I was having a spectacular day like last year and just have the courage to go for it again? Or would “being brave,” mean that I was going to have unexpected hardship, accept it, and find a way to go on and try to smile like Rosita would have? I spent a lot of time praying out there. I asked for help and strength. I could picture Rosita’s smile perfectly. I thought a lot about the grace with which she fought her battle even when it wasn't going her way. In return, I had many moments of joy and gratitude.
I don’t know if I hadn’t been racing in honor of Rosita if I would have had the motivation to go on under the circumstances. I think it helped to be raising money for Komen because I felt that I was making a positive difference in the fight that took Rosita far too soon. When I had told Allie, Rosita’s 11-year-old daughter that I was racing in honor of her mom, she said, “Cool, You go girl!”
I feel good about my race considering the circumstances. It could have been so much worse. I bought a donut shaped cushion at Wal-Mart today for the trip home. I'll be glad to be back home. This was a very special time with my sister, Lisa, and my niece, Shanni. We went down to the finish line and watched the late night finishers. That was quite an experience. I get home late tomorrow night.
Cheers,
Lynn
